De-coding the Turing family

The story of
Alan Turing has a hold on the world's imagination. A
Northerner post on the subject in January was the
most-viewed item on the
Guardian's whole website that week. Now the chair of the centenary celebrations,
Prof Barry Cooper, starts a series of guest posts for us

Dishonoured in the past, Turing is steadily gaining recognition, from international conferences and prizes to this blue plaque in a Wilmslow street
Courtesy: Professor Barry Cooper

As the anniversary of Alan Turing's birth in June approaches, the wider world is finally waking up to this great British mathematician, who was the world's first computer scientist.

"He lived, as I suppose is the lot of most geniuses, in some strange world of his own, full of nervous tensions of which we lesser mortals know nothing", says his brother John, in an afterword to a just-published reissue of his mother Sara's biography of Alan. Eccentric as Turing was, there are hundreds of centenary events in his honour happening throughout the world in 2012, from Brazil to Beijing and from Iceland to Peru.

Long hair and slovenly clothes marked Turing as a teenager, according to his Mum. But here, at 16, he shows that he could look neat too Courtesy: Professor Barry Cooper

Having spent much of my academic career inspired by Turing's work, it's hugely exciting to be involved as Chair of the Turing Centenary Advisory Committee (TCAC), which is coordinating the Alan Turing Year. It is long overdue that Turing is recognised: as Father of the Computer Revolution; as decoder of Enigma and hero of Bletchley Park's shortening of the War by two years; as the founder of artificial intelligence; and as the little known genius of computational biology and a contemporary gay icon.

Back in the Sixties, when I first discovered Turing's work as a young mathematics student at Jesus College Oxford, Turing was rarely talked about. Even when I went on to study at Manchester University, where Turing worked from 1948 until his death in 1954 doing ground-breaking work on artificial intelligence and computational biology, he was a well-kept secret. There was a shadow hung over him at that time – partly for being openly gay before the law allowed, and partly because of his mysterious suicide. And of course, when Turing went to Manchester, his colleagues were not allowed to know about the amazing wartime work at Bletchley Park, the history being censored by the Official Secrets Act. There is no mention of the country-saving Enigma decoding in his mother Sara's 1959 biography of Alan; even she was unaware of what her son had done.

It was when I read Andrew Hodge's fantastic biography, Alan Turing - the Enigma (a centenary edition is due in June from Vintage) that I really became captivated by Turing. He had a laser-like focus on making sense of the world, on connecting with its inner computability. As well as this thirst for understanding, there was also his personal courage. Turing never saw himself as a victim, even when humiliated by the chemical castration the law imposed on him as a result of his homosexuality. He wrote to his friend Norman Routledge after his 1952 conviction:

It was after Turing died aged 41 in June, 1954 in Wilmslow, Cheshire, that his mother Sara decided to write a biography. This little book was only published in about 300 copies and many people were given it as a gift by Turing's mother. They're collectors' items now – I recently saw one offered on Ebay for over $2,000.

Alan M. Turing by Sara Turing - Cambridge University Press's new edition of the fascinating family memoir Cambridge University Press

Back in 2010, I came up with the idea of getting this book re-published, tracked the copyright down to John Turing's widow Beryl, and approached Cambridge University Press. It is wonderful to see the book now simply titled "Alan M. Turing – Centenary Edition", with a new introduction by distinguished mathematician Martin Davis, along with the previously unpublished memoir by Alan's brother John.

Written from a mother's viewpoint, Sara provides a unique insight into the early years of Turing, with candid descriptions such as, "In dress and habits he tended to be slovenly. His hair was usually too long, with an overhanging lock which he would toss back with a jerk of his head." But the book is full of brilliant treasures, anecdotal accounts of Turing's eccentricity and genius, and insights into his science.

There is very little of Turing that has survived that shows what he thought - no diary has been found. Even when he died from eating an apple laced with cyanide, he left a riddle behind. The consensus would be that he committed suicide. He had discussed it previously and had a fascination with Snow White, leaving the apple by his bed in when he died. This little book, with its kaleidoscopic picture of Alan Turing's short life, goes some way towards de-coding his mind, and his family.

Follow the Alan Turing Year on Twitter at: @AlanTuringYearFor all the events happening in 2012, check out the Alan Turing Year website here.

Professor S. Barry Cooper is a mathematician at the University of Leeds. He is Chair of the Turing Centenary Advisory Committee (TCAC), which is co-ordinating the Alan Turing Year. He'll be posting regularly from now on, on the Guardian Northerner.